Feeling Old in My Ward and Other Frustrations

So...I'm 28 now. And with that, I'm now one of the senior members of my ward. The entire group of 30 year olds has moved on to the next ward, and now it's pretty much me and two other girls.  I just can't help but feel a little out of place amongst all these young people. They're all talking about school, and being just out of high school, and living with their families.  The Sunday School teacher yesterday called us a "group of 20-25 year olds".

I'm in a very weird place in life.  I'm out of college, but I'm not married. But I'm not old enough for the mid-singles ward. And I'm sure not going to go to the family ward. These are the times when a 25-30 ward would be awesome. Someone should seriously look into that. Seriously. Then I could be with people my own age and not have be continuously working on my patience with the younger people of the ward.

I love the sisters in my ward. I really do. Even the young ones, when they're not being so...young.  There are a lot of wonderful sisters in my ward that I've become good friends with.  I think I'd feel better about the ward if there were ever any opportunity to date. I can literally count on one hand the guys I've met in that ward that I could date, and I'd have two fingers left over.  I've been in this ward for over a year, and nothing.  I think most of the cause is my ward boundaries. It's mostly houses, and it's far away from the local campus.  Most of the guys in my ward are living at home: young, weird, or both. Because of the whole houses thing, the members of the ward don't change much from semester to semester. I really don't get it because I see cute guys at the church house and at stake activities. I don't know where they're coming from, but it's certainly not my ward.

Maybe I'd be more content with my ward if I had other opportunities to date. There are a few possibilities at work, but nothing serious. And I have no other ways to meet gentlemen. Besides which, I'm getting really tired of working so hard to reel a guy in. It is both exhausting and terrifying to be as obvious as you have to be to get a guy to notice you.

I'm so tired of pretending that I could be outdoorsy.  The fact is that I don't like fishing and I don't like hiking. I don't like getting dirty, or wet, or cold.  This doesn't go well for me because outdoorsy-ness is the official cop-out date of mankind. It's free and takes no effort whatsoever on the guy's part. And it helps them avoid defining your activity as a date.  And if you're not outdoorsy, forget it. No dates for you with that guy, which is all guys. I'm not a guy's girl. I'm not going to talk about sports.  When in the world did it become a problem to be a girl?  Are there no guys that appreciate the effort I put into my appearance? Doesn't anyone want a classy girl?  And if one more person tells me that guys are intimidated by my intelligence, I will throw a fit.

On TV the other day, I heard a line that struck me. The main character had been single for a long time, and he stated that every day, he believed a little less and a little less that there was someone out there for him.  I know exactly how he felt.  I haven't given up, and I have no plans to do so.  I don't want anyone to worry about me going all crazy, but I've gotten to a very strange part of my life where I'm making plans that don't even include the possibility of getting married. I mean, it's healthy to make plans that don't assume you'll be married soon, but my plans sort of skew towards never getting married. Which is weird. And depressing. Well, not really that depressing. I'm focusing more on me. On developing my very sad domestic skills. And continuing my education (informally; I have no plans to go back right now).

Most importantly, I'm working on my spirituality. I'm growing closer to my Savior. I'm learning more about my personal relationship with God. And it's good. And I'm happy, which is what matters most.

My Easter Miracle

I’ve been a little short on funds lately; I had a few larger expenses and didn’t budget quite like I should’ve to make up for them. Over the past couple of months, I’ve had to borrow money from my parents a couple of times. I would pay them back only to realize that I still needed help. I had realized the error of my ways and sworn to be more cautious, but when my last payday came, my balance was low enough that I could only afford tithing, rent, and groceries.  That weekend, I went grocery shopping and paid my tithing. When I checked my balance on Monday, however, I realized that I hadn’t calculated properly and did not have enough money to pay my rent. I was short by 30 dollars.

I had a few options. I could borrow more money from my parents, but I really hate to do that, and I don’t want them to worry about me. I could ask my landlady to hold my check, but that’s hardly professional, and I didn't want her to worry either. Finally, I knelt and prayed for a miracle.  I told the Lord that if I had to, I’d swallow my pride and borrow the money from my parents, but if it was His will for things to work out differently, I’d sure appreciate it.

Friday came, and still I had no idea how I would pay my rent. I’d pretty much resigned to the fact that I’d have to borrow from my parents. That evening, though, two friends who had owed me money paid me back.  I then rediscovered a check from Intermountain Health, crediting me for an overpayment, and a twenty dollar bill I had received for Christmas. Together, these totaled 80 dollars. It was more than enough to pay my rent. I realized that the Lord had provided a miracle.

Part two isn't necessarily a miracle, but it’s an act of service that brought tears to my eyes. This morning, while driving to my parents’ house for Easter brunch, the gas light turned on in my car. The last quarter tank of gas tends to sneak away from me if I’m not paying close attention, and apparently I hadn't been. I knew that I probably had enough gas to get around for the rest of the day, and I knew I could afford to get a little bit of gas the next day, but I felt a bit defeated. It had been a very long week, and this just stressed me out a bit.

My mom was kind enough to let me borrow her car for church so that I could make the gas that I had left last longer.  Later that night, when I left for home, I noticed that the gas gauge now showed that I had just over a quarter tank of gas left, rather than the eighth I’d had that morning. At first I thought the gauge would return to low as I drove, but it didn't  It stayed up there the whole drive home. It turns out my brother (who is not active at this time) took my car while I was at church and put just a little bit of gas in it. I started to cry as I realized the love that my brother has for me that led him to do this act of service for me. He might not have thought much of it, but it meant a lot to me.

For the few of you who read this blog (and maybe the few of you who have stumbled across it), I want you to know that the Lord knows and loves each and every one of us on a very personal level. He knows what we need, and He will bless us for keeping His commandments. The tender mercies of the Lord are real. Miracles are a part of reality. I know that trusting in the Lord has and will continue to bring me to a greater level of happiness than anything on Earth can ever hope to aspire to.

Today we celebrate Easter. We remember Christ’s Atonement and resurrection. We believe in a living Christ who has suffered for our sins. He knows each of our sorrows. He has felt each of our trials, and He will lead us to salvation by the straight and narrow path.  I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

P.S. I’m now 27. Still single, still doing great J